


Being Known

by onereyofstarlight



Series: Thunderbird Prompt/Request Fills [3]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Kidnapping, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24141109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onereyofstarlight/pseuds/onereyofstarlight
Summary: AU for "The Man From TB5" - What if the Hood had recognised John?
Series: Thunderbird Prompt/Request Fills [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1662397
Comments: 22
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KenzieRunningFree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KenzieRunningFree/gifts).



> Prompted by @kenzie-running-free on tumblr who suggested: "Maybe a ‘what-if’ story based on “The Man From TB5” where the Hood recognized John in the scene when he makes himself known (Instead of John stuttering). Just an idea"
> 
> I upped John's social anxiety a bunch for the drama so tread lightly if you are sensitive to that.
> 
> Recognisable dialogue is lifted direct from the episode, otherwise I hope you enjoy.

It was taking all of John’s considerable willpower to keep his arms locked down by his sides instead of allowing them to creep up and cross over his chest. He’d gotten several lectures from the last party he’d attended, Penelope telling him gently but firmly that it was unacceptable for him to stand glowering at _her_ guests from the corner. Lady Penelope didn’t ask – she demanded – and John had always known that when enough time had passed, he’d be expected to make another appearance. She had never understood, or perhaps never tried to understand, the way his skin crawled when people sidled up to him, the way his body flinched away from the bursts of laughter that spilled from other people’s lips. The idea that he kept his hands clenched to stop them shaking was foreign to her, and that he crossed his arms not out of anger or impoliteness, but because they allowed himself enough personal space to stop and breathe despite the crowd trying to crush his lungs, was not something that ever crossed her mind.

He took a step back and tried to smile weakly at the newest patrons who were taking an interest in him, discreetly breathing through his mouth. The strong scents that people insisted on wearing were making his nose run and made his difficulty breathing much more than an imagined reality.

He should have taken Scott up on his offer to swap roles earlier, or even allowed him to spill the beans strategically in the hearing of his younger brother – Gordon’s delight at the thought of attending a party with Penelope had come much too late to be of any use to him. John poked at the lapel on his jacket, excusing himself from the gossiping group with another grimace and a wave of his hand. Even if he was stuck, he knew he could call on his brothers to help ground him when it all became a bit much and all the noises around him began to crash together in a cacophony of sound inside his head while the bright flashes of colour made him want to back away and squeeze his eyes shut.

“Scott, I’d like to report a situation,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth, nodding absently at a waiter who passed by him.

There was a faint beeping in his ear and John frowned.

“Scott, come in.”

Still silence, and John could feel the panic bubbling in his chest at the thought that his brother had abandoned him.

“Scott?”

The words were whispered helplessly, his back firmly against the solid wall and his eyes starting to feel wet. He shuddered faintly and suddenly, there was a hand hovering hesitantly over his shoulder and clear, calm eyes looking into his.

“What’s got you into a tizzy, now?” murmured Parker, and John nearly collapsed at the sound of someone familiar.

“I’m fine,” he gasped.

Parker snorted.

“I told milady that this would be too much,” he said with a sniff. “She should have warned you.”

John startled at the confession of disagreement between them. He was touched that Parker would go out of his way to even pass a comment on Penelope’s decision, firstly to bring him along, and then to lie to get him to agree.

No, not lie. Lady Penelope never lied. She left out details, she exaggerated, she understated, but she never lied.

Parker was still eyeing him with considerable concern and John realised his head had fallen into his hands, arms no longer trapped by his sides.

“It’s Scott,” he said. “He’s been checking in, so has Brains, and the others. I can’t get a hold of them.”

“That’s not like them,” said Parker with a frown, and John felt cold relief spreading through him that his fears weren’t entirely unfounded.

“Try h’again.”

John poked at the lapel, feeling a little silly, and called out softly. “Gordon? Alan? Can you read me?”

Crickets.

“EOS, is this another of your jokes?”

More silence.

“Scott, please,” he whispered, looking desperately up at Parker as he did so. He knew rationally something deeper was going on, something much more sinister than a family abandoning a brother to his fate, but still the old anxieties of being too much and not enough for people to stick around reached down into his gut and knotted his intestines together.

He felt sick.

“H’allow me to speak to milady,” said Parker. The serious tone grounded John more than he expected, and he nodded. Parker walked off and John watched his movement across the auction floor to the group of socialites Penelope had gotten caught up in, her tinkling laugh heard clearly throughout the room.

Parker whispered in her ear and Penelope looked up sharply at his words, her eyes catching John’s pinched gaze from across the room. She nodded once, dismissively, and Parker slunk away to patrol the perimeter while Penelope extracted herself from the group with a gracious inclination of her head and a charming smile.

“You can’t get a hold of your brothers?” she asked quietly, as she slotted into place beside him.

John shook his head.

“Do you think there’s been a communications failure?” he asked, hoping for some external reassurance.

Penelope narrowed her eyes as she considered the situation.

“John, are you willing to believe that Tracy Island has experienced a communications failure knowing what your family does? Are you willing to believe that of Five?”

He could never, and he knew she knew that.

“I very much doubt this is a mere comms failure, John.”

Penelope eyed up her guests carefully, appraising each of them as they walked by and searching for any sign of foul play.

“I can’t imagine any of the guests being involved. I invited them because they had have more money than sense and that’s what really sells at an auction – two fools in a bidding war.”

John looked at her, wondering at the way she perceived the people around her.

“So you think it’s serious?”

“John, I think everything is serious.”

She looked up at him, slightly frustrated.

“I have to start the auction. Will you be all right?”

John smiled tightly at her and Penelope’s frown deepened.

“That is _not_ reassuring, John.”

“Can’t help it,” he replied in a low voice. “When you’re worried, I can’t help but think everything’s about to go to hell in a basket.”

Penelope pursed her lips together and scanned the room one last time.

“Find out for me what’s causing the comm jam. And if you can, find out why.”

With that, she turned on her heel and strode up towards the podium, charming façade firmly in place.

Penelope never asked, she demanded.

It was helping, having a problem laid in front of him, tempting and waiting to be solved. John narrowed his eyes, allowing the parameters to define themselves in his mind.

The faint jingle of glittering bracelets and dainty earrings. The luxury of satins and silks. The rich colours and the haughty looks. The exclamations over recent purchases and loose connections to the even more rich and the even more famous.

Wealthy, airheaded patrons.

“The reception here is positively _dreadful_ ,” complained a woman as she walked past.

No communications in or out.

“Welcome everyone,” called Penelope warmly from the stand. The chatter began to die away as everyone gathered around her.

An isolated auction at a secret location.

A thief then, a pickpocket as Parker had idly mentioned before.

“Our first auction item is a gracious donation from International Rescue.”

A thief with a vested interest in International Rescue’s London agent. A thief with a vested interest in International Rescue themselves. A thief with access to a sophisticated computer system capable of hacking through the firewalls he’d set up personally around Penelope’s network.

 _No_ , he thought, _more likely the invitations sent out to the people gathered here was at fault._

Surprised murmuring at the outrageous bidding happening around him broke his focus for a moment, but John quickly dismissed the background noise.

He didn’t have Penelope or Parker’s experience in the field by any means; John had always preferred to keep his sleuthing restricted to impersonal companies that had condemned themselves with unethical actions that the barest tweak of data leakage could wreak havoc over. But he was no dummy. He could add two and two together.

“The Hood.”

“That’s exactly right.”

A gasp rippled around the room as the snooty man Penelope had steered him away from earlier stepped forward and revealed himself.

Penelope’s eyes met his, determined and unsurprised at the intrusion. No doubt she’d worked it all out before him.

There was another gasp as the serving staff stepped forward, armed with cruel smiles and tasers. John was pulled roughly from his position and half led, half dragged to the front when the facial scanner drew a negative.

He wasn’t certain whether he should curse Brains or thank him.

“This one doesn’t show up on the system.”

The Hood paused and shot the man an irritated glare, cut off mid-gloat.

His eyebrow raised as he looked John up and down.

“Now,” he said with a mocking smile. “Who exactly are you?”

“Me?” asked John. in faux surprise. His eyes glanced around the room wildly, spotting the mirrors that reflected Penelope and her hands, spelling out a message to him.

“Uh, nobody,” he said, now concentrating on the rapid motion of Penelope’s hands.

 _We can’t let him get away with this_ , she was signing frantically. That, John could agree with.

“Uh I… won a ticket!” he exclaimed, seizing upon a flash of inspiration. “At… uh, work.”

John gave the Hood his best bemused look and waited with bated breath.

The Hood narrowed his eyes. Then he straightened his posture with the satisfied air of someone who had just snagged a major prize.

“I’m afraid, John Tracy,” he said in a silky manner. “That I just don’t believe what you have to say.”

The world crystallised around John in a moment of sharp understanding. The Hood knew who he was. The Hood had not come across the auction by a chance view of the invitation spread amongst the global elite. The Hood had hacked Penelope’s datastream, sidestepped _his_ security and gathered enough information to know who he was to Penelope and who he was to International Rescue.

The Hood wasn’t here for pocket change.

The Hood was here for him.

“How delightful it is to see you in the flesh,” he said. “How long has it been since you’ve stepped out into the light? Seven years? Eight?”

His tone was light and conversational but John could see the malice glinting in his eyes. The Hood leaned in and he flinched away at the breath that brushed against his ear.

“I know,” the Hood whispered. “I know about your experiments in programming sentience. I know about the AI.”

He laughed as John twisted away from him, revulsion, anxiety, desperation in his eyes.

“Let me tell you what is going to happen, Lady Penelope,” he said turning his sickening, parasitic smile back on his host. “I am going to take your _dear friend_ John away with me for a while. It’s been a long time since we last saw each other, and I’d like to get reacquainted.”

“No,” breathed Penelope, struggling in the grip of the goon that held her.

“Oh, yes,” said the Hood with relish. “John is coming with me, and in the meantime you are going to call International Rescue and keep them busy for me.”

He smirked, and John felt the heady rush of goosebumps breaking out across his body.

“After all, we have so much to discuss.”

“What makes you think I would call International Rescue to the scene?” demanded Penelope, drawing herself up to the full height her heels afforded her. “I could just as easily give them _your_ coordinates.”

The Hood casually withdrew a tablet from his jacket pocket and showed her display.

“Because I have set up laser cutters on each of the cables that holds up this fine establishment.”

He pressed a button, and there was a large jolt as the hotel settled on the suddenly weakened cable. Penelope’s eyes flitted between her panicked guests and the cool turquoise of John’s gaze. Parker was struggling with the man who held him, furious at the mark that John being kidnapped would leave against his professional record. John looked at them both and took a deep breath.

“I’ll go with you,” he said, thinking of the scared people that filled the room. Thinking of how his family would be able to reach them if he left, how the Hood would give them a fighting chance.

“As long as he has control of those laser cutters, he calls the shots,” he said in an undertone to Penelope. “I’m sorry, I have to go with him.”

“You damnably noble _idiot_ ,” she hissed back as he was roughly pulled away. “Of course you do.”

“Put this on,” said the Hood with a triumphant smile.

John put on the harness, wondering for a moment if the Hood was really so arrogant as to allow him to leave under his own power. Perhaps it was the image of betrayal he was hoping to leave behind – the idea that he might have left willingly. As if his brothers would ever believe that.

He was roughly thrown from the window and a startled yell escaped his lips as gravity – always gravity – pulled him down towards the surface of the earth. There was a whirring sound and faint laughter above him as his descent came to a sudden halt. The Hood fiddled with his screen again and John felt himself accelerating upwards until he was level with his captor.

“I’m in control now.” He jabbed one finger at the tablet again and John heard the low humming of powerful lasers and rotating machinery deep in the pit of his stomach.

“I wish you luck, Lady Penelope,” he called. “To you and your guests, and to International Rescue. Let’s see them pull off another fantastic rescue in your honour.”

John was dragged away by mechanical wings, Valkyries carrying him away from the battle he’d rather stay and fight.

He had one last thing he could give, one ace up his sleeve.

“Penelope, catch!” he cried, and pulled out the laser cutter Brains had hidden away.

He could see where it landed, clattering at her feet and she stooped to pick it up.

He hoped it would be enough.


	2. Chapter 2

The silence that followed John’s dramatic exit was the hardest part. No one spoke, the only sound the roaring of the wind and the faint beeping in John’s ear that told him the connection had not yet been re-established. Perhaps, it wouldn’t. The Hood had intended for Penelope to call his brothers to her, and crucially away from him, so it followed that the frequency disruptor was concealed on his person.

If it were him in his ‘bird, he knew how to trace the dead air that a comm jam inevitably created. There was a trail that would follow, maintenance reports and upgrades listed. There was sudden news spreading online of short, unexplained communication failures, a flurry of online activity that burst into life the moment the disruption ended.

He wasn’t in his ‘bird. He didn’t have access to a vast network of datastreams and information caches and statistical modelling programs. He had a radio that was only connected to a single network and magnetic socks for all the good they would do him. And he had thrown away the one item that might have been useful as a weapon.

After that impulsive choice, he wasn’t certain he could claim his brain as an asset.

One problem at a time. He knew how to calm a racing mind, knew how to create order out of apparent chaos.

Three goons.

One mastermind.

No control over the mechanism strapped to his body.

Wind chill.

No way to contact his family and make his position known.

Yet.

The steady beeping of an unconnected comm was replaced by crackling static. A stationary frequency disruptor then, not on the Hood’s personage at all. It would make things harder for Penelope and Parker to get out of the mess they were in, if they needed to destroy the jamming technology themselves, but it gave John a chance. He twisted slightly in his harness, the unforgiving metal tugging at his skin.

“You won’t get out, boy,” sneered the Hood. “And where would you go? Fall to your death like your mother? Like your friends back at the hotel will?”

John ignored him. His arm snaked higher, feeling underneath the lapel of his suit. He shuddered at the bite of metallic thread, the icy burn spreading outwards from his fingers.

His hands were clumsy and the cold already beginning to muddle his mind as he worked, fighting his instincts to curl up and preserve heat instead of picking at frozen circuitry.

The static dropped into the familiar, faint beeping as they flew through another patch of destructive signal interference. He worked through it, twisting at the threads to create a receiver that would remain open and linked into the iR comm line. To hack into his own network was no mean feat and more than once John had to abruptly shift from fiddling with the electrical components to scratching his chin as the Hood or his men peered back at him. A quiet Tracy was a dangerous Tracy. The Hood had learnt that lesson long ago.

He couldn’t allow more than a sharp inhale of excitement as the radio receiver caught the first snatches of conversation on the air.

“It’s been nearly an hour.”

“And he hasn’t called any of us?”

“EOS, you’re sure this isn’t you?”

“Positive!”

He couldn’t leave a transmission line open, not without creating a signal of his own that would draw attention to himself from unwanted parties. Especially as he couldn’t guarantee it would attract his brothers’ attention. Better to wait.

A new voice broke through.

“Calling International Rescue, we have urgent need of assistance.”

“Lady Penelope?” Scott and Gordon’s voices intertwined, although one displayed considerably more anxiety than the other.

“Lady Penelope, what’s happened to John?” demanded Scott. John could almost see the withering glare he gave their younger brother, almost daring him to speak.

“John’s not… he’s been…”

“Kidnapped by the ‘ood,” cut in Parker. “Begging your pardon, m’lady.”

A loud thump.

“I _told_ you we should take it seriously,” hissed Alan.

“How was _I_ to know it wasn’t his stupid AI being the devil incarnate again?”

“I said it wasn’t me!”

“What information can you give us?” Virgil’s voice was low and calm. John could almost feel his warm hand dropping on his shoulder, his eyes intent and serious.

“I don’t know where John is,” said Penelope, letting out a shaky breath. “But we’ve just destroyed a frequency jammer that was affecting all our communications, and there are three devices slowly cutting through the cables holding up the infrastructure of the hotel. We have nearly 300 civilians that need help _now_.”

A splutter of outrage came through the earpiece.

“John–”

“Don’t argue with me, Scott Tracy,” Penelope snapped. “Do not think for a second I don’t care about your brother because I do. The Hood wants something from him specifically, he’s not in any immediate danger. But we have experienced altitude shifts from a loss of tension twice in the last forty-five minutes, and we cannot afford to wait much longer.”

“She’s right,” murmured Virgil.

There was an awful silence. John held his breath.

“Thunderbird One and Thunderbird Shadow are our fastest planes,” said Scott. “Kayo, let’s move. Gordon, you and Alan, get up the hotel specs up in the comm sphere, start running timeframe simulations. We need to get those people out of that building.”

“I’ve forward you boys all the information I can.”

“Virgil, can you–”

His stomach in his mouth.

Wind whistling in his ears, drowning out the words.

A drop in altitude, a spike in terror.

He groaned as his body jolted in the harness, the fall abruptly ended with cruel laughter from above. Slowly the mechanical wings retracted and again gravity overcame him. A numb jolt shot up his legs and he crumpled to the hard tarmac. The fall was only a few feet high, but it was enough to cause serious ground shock which slammed through his nerves like a lightning bolt.

John looked up, squinting in the harsh sunlight.

Above him, the Hood and his henchmen circled like vultures, almost lazy in their descent. They would never be able to reach him if he could make a break for it.

‘ _If_ ’ very much being the operative word.

John looked around him. The mountainous landscape cut off any obvious escape routes. There was a car nearby, evidently left for them to use as a getaway for the next phase of transport. Black, hard top, driver’s seat on the left. He noted the make and model before checking over the sprained wrist he’d sustained as he’d fallen forwards. He grimaced as he tested its range of motion, thanking his lucky stars he was right handed. Gingerly, he dabbed at scrapes beneath his torn dress trousers, doing his best to clean them.

He risked a glance upwards to see how many more precious few moments alone he would be given.

Hunched over his wounds, it was time to make a signal disruptor of his own. He needed a device that would draw attention not only to his existence, but his location. He huffed on his hands, his fingers still stiff and clumsy from the cold. A localised disturbance in the comms network would do it, he knew the precise frequencies that the comms would be operating on and would be able to target a destructive pattern much more efficiently that the broad spectral disruption that the Hood’s device had used. And if he could code a message into the pattern of disruption, all the better.

‘ _If they can find it_.’ He pushed the thought away. His brothers were still chattering in his ear, their focus on the rescue at hand and unaware of his eavesdropping. He knew they were close by, close enough that the comms would record the disruption even if they weren’t looking for it. He just had to hope someone would at least note the regularity of the anomaly when they reviewed the mission logs. He tried not to think about the fact that that someone was usually him.

He had to trust his brothers.

The binary of Morse code made it easy to incorporate, able to be read through the on/off of the signal disruption. They could all recognise a simple SOS message, it had been one of the first rescue lessons their father had drilled into them from childhood. He set the signal to repeat.

Rough hands pulled John upright and he stood on shaky legs that struggled to hold his weight. His adrenaline level was decreasing rapidly, and the resulting shock was beginning to crash his system.

“Get him in the car,” said the Hood, barely glancing at John. “Move quickly, International Rescue will fly over this region soon enough and I want us long gone before they get a sniff of this place.”

“Yes boss.”

John was frogmarched to the back seat and strapped into place. He hadn’t sat in a middle seat since before his first growth spurt and he shifted uncomfortably with his knees around his ears.

“I want something from you, John Tracy.” The Hood sounded bored, merely reciting a daily script with a stranger. “It is a mistake to say I need it. All I want is for you not to have it.”

A soft click drew John’s attention. The cold impression of a barrel against his ribs left him certain of the Hood’s intent. The blood pounded in his ears, the mental instructions he sent to calm his heart rate unheeded by his body.

“I am not concerned how I get it.” John could see the man’s cold, glittering eyes in the rear view mirror. “Do we understand each other, John?”

John licked at his dry lips. His voice was merely a rasp and he hated himself for betraying such an obvious physical reaction.

“We do,” he whispered.

“Excellent.”

John was feeling dizzy. The reality of his situation flashed through his mind, sudden images of being thrown from the hotel, forced out of the sky, the _gun_ that was pressed into his side. He closed his eyes. Faintly, he thought he could hear Alan’s excited voice, his words indistinct as hysteria threatened to overwhelm him.

He couldn’t give that level of satisfaction to his worst enemy.

He wouldn’t allow his emotions to control his responses.

He needed a cool head and all his wits about him if he were to get out of this mess.

The car was speeding along the mountain road, isolated with nobody nearby for miles.

He opened his eyes. Alan was still talking into his ear.

“Guys, I _know_ that’s John.”

“What, so the comm signal drops off nearby and you immediately assume it’s John?” scoffed Gordon. “It happens, alpine regions are always sketchy. It’s back now anyway.”

“Exactly,” said Alan. “Signals that drop off don’t just come back. It’s not random noise either, look at this projection of signal strength. And it’s _moving_.”

“Kayo, go check it out,” ordered Scott. “It may be nothing, but let’s not take chances. Virgil and I can finish up here, we’re almost done.”

“FAB Scott.”

“Alan, try to make contact. If it _is_ John, I want confirmation of his situation.”

A high pitched frequency assaulted him. Audio feedback, a misplaced connection in the radio receiver and John yelped, bringing his hands up to protect his ears.

He froze, eyes watering.

“Pull. over.”

The Hood’s voice was as silk, a smooth, low, furious sound that demanded obedience.

John didn’t move, didn’t dare draw attention to the radio embedded in his jacket. He could lose the earpiece, despite the anguish it would cause to lose a stable connection to his family. Without the radio itself, their link to _him_ would be destroyed.

Rough hands grabbed at his arm, ignoring the sharp cry as his injured wrist bore his weight as he was hauled from the car.

A hard shove sent him sprawling.

“Get him up,” said the Hood. “Stop wasting my time.”

Revulsion rose from John’s stomach as the Hood stepped closer. His head jerked away, only to be captured in the Hood’s other hand, yanking his ear down to eye level.

“A speaker,” he muttered, plucking the earpiece from its place. He lifted it to his own ear, cocking an eyebrow at the voices that emanated from it.

“So, you’re in contact with them. Clever. And yet you haven’t alerted them to your whereabouts?”

John said nothing.

“There must be a receiving unit. Presumably a transmitter as well – ah! A textile radio, how delightful. Did Brains cook this up for you? But of course he did.”

The jacket was ripped from his body, leaving John shivering in the mountain air.

“How does this work, John? No, don’t tell me. Brains’ inventions are always so intuitive. Very convenient in an emergency, wouldn’t you say John?”

He threw the earpiece back at one of the henchmen holding him in place.

“Best give this part back, we don’t need it.”

The man hesitated.

“Get a move on,” growled the Hood.

John flinched as the earpiece was replaced, his head filled again with the sounds of his family calling to each other back and forth.

The Hood fingered the lapel thoughtfully.

“I can open a transmission to them. Should I do that John? Let them know how helpless you are? How helpless they are?”

_“Thunderbird Five calling unknown operator, come in please.”_

“They’ll find me. They won’t stop searching.”

“Such faith in family.” The Hood peered into John’s eyes. “Do you really believe that? Surely you recall their past failures. Their prejudices. Their arrogance.”

_“We have received an SOS from your location. Please respond.”_

He leaned closer.

_“John, if you’re out there, give us a sign. Anything. Please.”_

Alan’s voice broke. John could hear the shuffling motion of a brother pulling another close. Gordon’s calm, steady voice took over the call.

“You’re about to find out what I learnt long ago. Family lets us down. Family leaves us behind. Family don’t look forever.”

John’s heart thudded in his chest. The Hood’s lips tugged into a cruel smile, a knife twisting in the wound he’d just dealt.

“Of course, you already know that.”

_> >>“Dad, we need you.”_

_> >> “Dad, we won’t stop looking.”_

_> >> “Dad, please.”_

_> >> “…”_

_> >> “Dad, they need me. They need Thunderbird Five.”_

_> >> “Scott says we have to stop.”_

_> >>“Dad, I think he’s right.”_

John knew. John remembered.

The Hood opened the channel.

“Wait, wait Scott, we have a connection.”

“Can he hear us?”

“John? John?!”

“Anything you’d like me to pass on, John?”

The Hood smiled, a triumphant figure.

“Last chance.”

“Go to hell.”

He laughed, fingers playing on the edge of the jacket lapel.

Twenty-two thousand miles above them, his laugh echoed across a suddenly silent space station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgetting to update this fic even though the second chapter has been on my Tumblr since April? That surely doesn't sound like me....
> 
> Anyway, cross posted from Tumblr, originally posted on 10/04/2020
> 
> Third chapter is about half done? It's an official priority over the next two weeks of holidays :D Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

The landscape was monochrome and he couldn’t tell if it was due to the environment or the sick feeling in his stomach that had yet to subside. He glimpsed a vast chasm beside the car as he was whisked inside, the snow on the mountains stark against the slate grey of the sky.

It didn’t seem to matter to the Hood if John knew where he was being taken. He seemed to relish in the absurdity of the situation, pausing now and then to exclaim over the labyrinthine cabin in a bizarre house tour where his only guest was being prodded along with a gun. Although the rooms sheltered him from the wind, there was no inviting fires or cozy blankets for John to warm himself, the cabin’s interior as cold as its architect. His jacket had been long discarded, lying forlornly at the bottom of the valley, and John knew this tour was more about disorientating him than showing off any kind of austere affluence.

The temperature had steadily dropped with each descending staircase and John knew they were now deep in the heart of the mountain when he was ushered into a new room. The walls were covered with wooden panels and a single light hung from the roof.

“Strap him in.”

The henchmen hurried to comply, forcing John into a chair and tightening the straps.

John winced as the strap around his chest was ripped off and reapplied, the sound of velcro grating against his ears.

“Really, Hood? Velcro? That’s the best you can do?”

“Quiet, Tracy.”

“Should have left me at the party if you wanted me quiet.”

The Hood gestured to the henchmen to leave.

John fought to rein in his temper, bubbling close to the surface in response to his frayed nerves and the sustained supply of adrenaline. He needed to cling to cool logic, to allow the sharp ice of the air to penetrate his blood.

The last echoing footstep faded into silence.

His pulse throbbed loudly in his ears, overpowering the sound of steady breathing.

The Hood’s lip curled as he turned, his smile becoming a leer as he gazed hungrily at him.

“Now, John. Let’s not waste any more time. I have something you want. You have something I need.”

A wave of his hand and a small, square circuit board appeared on the table between them. John could see immediately this was no fourth grade raspberry pi construct; nanoprocessors lined the board and he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the sheer number of integrated circuits soldered in place.

“Impressive hardware.”

“Your approval is gratifying. It’s the best I could pull together at such short notice. You see, I came across a program recently that I find rather fascinating. Unfortunately, my defences rather ripped it to shreds and I need someone to reverse engineer it.”

John narrowed his eyes.

“You can’t be surprised that the first person I thought of was you.”

He spoke in a reasonable tone, one John was familiar with. They were just two businessmen, aiming to strike a deal. Each had something the other wanted. John had the programming know-how. The Hood had his freedom. All there was left to do was settle the cost.

“And what a happy coincidence we happened to be attending the same party. To think I met this little thing while I was sourcing my invitation.”

“Open source invite, was it?” John scoffed lightly. “You weren’t on any guest list I saw, or did you forget your RSVP?”

The slight curve of the Hood’s upper lip curled into a sneer as he looked down at him.

“Must have gotten lost in the datastream,” mused John. “I can’t imagine Parker would let your name slide by.”

“Enough,” he snapped. “Analyse the code and make it afresh for me. And I’ll let you go, no further hostilities.”

“Out of the kindness of your own heart? How generous.“

The Hood’s eyes hardened.

“Restore it,” he spat.

A stand off between them, the Hood’s frenzied words against John’s cool refusal to play games.

“I need equipment for that,” said John, hardly raising an eyebrow at the loss of control. He toyed with the circuit board, thumbing the familiar soldered components. “What do you think this is anyhow?”

The Hood reached out and snatched the small device away from him.

“This is the remnant of the computer program I discovered shredding my defences as I worked my way inside the lovely Lady Penelope’s firewall. A feisty little program, but of course I recognised your fingerprints all over it. How long has it been since you’ve made an AI? It was certainly more sophisticated than your attempts in college.”

His eyes gleamed as he spied the surprise that flitted over John’s carefully controlled face.

“I know about them too. You always were one to watch. I might have recruited you if you hadn’t fallen off the face of the Earth; I suppose I have your father to thank for that.”

“If you know so much, what do you need me for?”

“Only a portion remained once my own programs got to it. Ripped to shreds, see, by more offensive parties.”

“So your work is no more than a blunt instrument. You couldn’t remove my firewalls, so you smashed the gatekeeper to pieces, is that it?”

“That was before I knew what – and who – I was dealing with. The loss is regrettable, but fortunately it is not final. You have what remains, and you can create another AI for me if necessary.”

“Just like that? What makes you think I’ll agree?”

“An exercise in intellectual curiosity? A bargaining tool for your own freedom? I’m sure I can provide suitable compensation for the task.”

“You should know my rates are pretty competitive.”

The Hood stood straight, a look of scorn on his face.

“This negotiation only lasts as long as you cooperate. If we cannot come to a mutually acceptable agreement, I will take what I need instead.

“Desperate men take what they can get.”

“Then we understand each other.”

A warning nestled in pleasantry and sharp, hungry eyes.

John smiled thinly.

“I’m a desperate man, Hood. How many chances are you going to give me?”

He leaned forward, tugging slightly against the restraints.

“I’ll only need one.”

A snarl echoed around him and the Hood pounced, springing forward in a flurry of motion. He caught John’s head in his hands and shoved him down.

John jerked forwards, the table slamming into him before he had time to blink.

Dazed, he could hear the Hood’s voice ringing loudly above him.

“That’s the difference between you and I. I know you Tracys. Far too noble and high minded to get your hands dirty.”

His brave face was marred by the involuntary cringe away from the Hood as he leaned down next to his ear, furious and close.

“No, that’s what you use my niece for.”

John’s head jolted up, anger and indignation burning cold in his eyes.

“Don’t act like you care about Kayo.”

“Of course I care about her. She spent so much of her childhood by my side.”

The words caressed his skin like silk, leaving chills where they struck in his heart. A fact that he couldn’t refute, but one he had guessed long ago.

His brothers had been asleep when Kayo arrived in their home, unaware that a silent, skittish girl was about to join their family. John had seen it though, the way their Grandma had wrapped her arms around her and welcomed her inside. He’d seen too, the ferocity on his father’s face and the glistening eyes that belied Kyrano’s steady stoicism. Years of built bridges and broken walls as a slow trust grew between brother and sister, fear finally put to rest when Kayo had given up her final secret.

“What did you do to her?”

“I merely nurtured her abilities. Her short-sighted father would only stifle her growth. She loved being by my side, the power it gave her. You could ask her yourself if you only do as I say.”

He leaned forward and placed a holomonitor on the table, sliding it towards John.

“No.”

“What will motivate you more do you think? Calling my niece in on her debt to me? Watching your brothers fall to Earth as I rip your home from orbit?”

His thoughts raced his pulse, searching for a way out. He couldn’t hope to convince the Hood to let him go, not when he had so much to lose. Whatever he said, this was not a game of cooperation, but one of survival. A zero-sum, where the Hood would gain whatever John was willing to give up.

His freedom. His mind.

His brothers’ lives.

His sister’s security.

Or a computer program.

There was only one option that lead to the best outcome for John, no matter the Hood’s next move. An unpleasant accusation slid into his head, a sly reminder that his brothers would never give in to such demands.

He dismissed it at once. He’d never been delusional enough to believe he was the best of his brothers.

John gazed steadily at the Hood.

“I’ll do it.”

His hand stretched out between them, triumphant in silent mockery.

John looked away.

The Hood smiled.

“It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Mr Tracy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! And especially to DrileyF and the anonymous commentor - I've had such limited time and I'm sorry I never got back to you, but your comments on the last chapter spurred me on and kept me going on this chapter and I thank you so much <3 
> 
> And a huge thanks to everyone who's left a comment in general too, it's mean a lot and warmed my heart :D

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Cross posted on Tumblr. Original dates below:  
> Chapter 1 - 10/03/2020  
> Chapter 2 - 10/04/2020


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